TINA said the fusion cannon prototype would take two days. Emmett hoped it would be sooner. The rest of Tuesday—the first day of humanity's war against the Deep Ones—passed uneventfully. But everyone knew it was only a matter of time.
The tide wasn't going out. Belport and the rest of the Atlantic coastlines were still under ten feet of water. Reports of intermittent attacks came through, but Belport was quiet.
By the time dinner rolled around Tuesday night, Emmett and Clara had stopped working and stopped waiting for updates from the Summit. They needed a break. So they changed into sweats and settled in on the couch to binge episodes of Full Throttle Heart.
Dr. Venture excused himself and left the two of them alone. As soon as he was gone, Clara curled up and leaned against Emmett's shoulder. He put his arm around Clara and pulled her close. Emmett wasn't sure about Clara, but he nodded off a few times—out of equal parts comfort and exhaustion.
The most exciting thing that happened that evening was Max calling to check in between episodes. With so much cellphone traffic, TINA had to boost his call and put it through on their private network.
Max's face appeared on the living room wall, along with the chatter from the crowded shelter.
"Filtering noise," TINA said.
"Hey, guys... You look comfortable." Max peered into the phone so that his face looked enormous on the wall. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Emmett's face felt hot, and Clara snorted a laugh. "No."
"Good," Max said, pulling the phone back from his face. "Otherwise, I'll totally rat you out to your dad. Emmett will die, and I'll inherit all his gadgets."
"What about your arms and legs?" Emmett asked.
Max shrugged. "I don't need them."
Max resumed pacing back and forth in the shelter. In the background, families were spread out across rows of cots. Supplies lined the edges of the room.
Emmett chose his words carefully. "You're staying with the civilians?"
"Just visiting. Right now, me and the others are off duty. We're technically on-call, I guess, but we're going to patrol in shifts. Well, we're volunteering with the relief workers." Max did air quotes to emphasize the excuse. "Not that Mom cares. She thinks the fish-dudes are nicer than serial killers. Jokes on her—"
Clara sat up. "You guys are patrolling?"
"Oh... yeah. I'm sure you'll hear from Sere—er, someone soon. They want to patrol the city in small groups. She said they'd try to keep us with teammates we already knew."
That was good. Mod, Arsenal, McGuire, Cherry, Larian, and Krystal already knew each other's tactics. He wasn't sure how long Krystal had been with the group, but Cherry and Larian had been running together for a few years. And both Larian and Krystal had ways of getting around the city.
Not to mention, that lessened the chances that Emmett got put on a team with Hunter Nine or a friend of his.
Clara sighed. "Guess we're going back to work tomorrow."
Max chuckled. "Yeah, you don't get to stay the night in your fancy bunker. You'll have to rough it with the rest of us."
Emmett and Clara shared a look that said she wouldn't be staying the night anywhere else but here—not because Clara didn't want to, but because there was a nonzero chance of her exploding.
That wouldn't be good for anyone.
"That was a joke," Max added. "Clara, you can stay there. Emmett, maybe we can have a guys' night. Have your people call my people. We'll set it up."
YOU ARE READING
Mod Superhero
Science FictionFor this cyborg, power is just an upgrade away. Emmett was used to being caught between college and his engineering internship, but when he gets caught between a powerful hero and an even stronger villain, he becomes collateral damage. Instead of d...
